


A Curative for the Mind

by wordsmithraven



Series: Samwena Week April 2020 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Rowena MacLeod, F/M, Magic, Original Character(s), Protective Sam Winchester, Proud Rowena MacLeod, Rituals, Romance, Witch Sam Winchester, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmithraven/pseuds/wordsmithraven
Summary: Sam and Rowena work a ritual to find the witch who poisoned Rowena. Companion piece to A Curative for the Heart.Samwena Fan Week 2020 - Day 3: Magic or Lore
Relationships: Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Series: Samwena Week April 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693411
Kudos: 20
Collections: Samwena Week





	A Curative for the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Read after A Curative for the Heart.

The Men of Letters’ Bunker was a fairly confined place, buried deep in the ground beneath an old, decommissioned power plant magically enhanced to make it difficult to notice. As a fortress, it was pretty top-notch but sometimes Sam found it a bit claustrophobic. He usually preferred places with wide open spaces and access to plenty of nature, especially for his morning runs. As it stood, living in a state-of-the-art, magically warded repository for thousands of years of arcane knowledge was exactly what he needed when Rowena had called him the day before.

He’d been the only one in the Bunker when it had happened. Dean was backing up Jody and Donna on a harpy hunt, his mother was flying solo in Quebec looking for information on Michael, and Castiel was teaching Jack some kind of angelic meditation in Louisville, Kentucky of all places. He, himself, had decided to stay close to the Bunker in case any of the few Apocalypse World hunters still alive after the massacre needed assistance. As it happened, one hunter had needed help with a haunting turned poltergeist. It took them all night to completely cleanse the house. He’d gotten home in the early hours of the morning and had just laid down to sleep when the phone rang.

The moment he’d heard Rowena’s fading voice and then the clack of the cell phone falling from her hand, he’d nearly lost his mind. It had been worse when he’d gotten to the hotel and found her unconscious on the floor, surrounded by five dead witches. If she had been any further away from the Bunker than downtown Lawrence…

Sam hadn’t known the thought of losing Rowena could affect him that much. Nothing like a loved one’s near death experience to force him to face the truth.

He was falling in love with Rowena MacLeod. 

It was hours later and he still didn’t know what to do about it. He hadn’t felt anything close to it since Eileen had been killed by Ketch two years before. Since then, he’d been careful not to get too close to anyone romantically, male or female. He’d restricted himself to one night stands and weekend flings only, telling himself it was better that way. That way, no one else would fall victim to his cursed life.

The realization that Rowena had slipped past those defenses was bordering on earth shattering news. It was certainly worthy of the earth cracking apart. Sam marveled at the sheer cosmic irony that he would fall for a woman he was destined to kill. The very thought was so overwhelming that Sam had had trouble breathing at several moments since the day before. Just thinking about their ending made it hard for him to breathe.

It was not, however, the right mindset to be bringing into a ritual spell, so Sam tried hard to clear his mind before entering the Bunker’s ceremonial chamber.

“It would be better to do this under an actual willow with the moon bathing us through the branches,” Rowena explained, kneeling to examine the large circle of interlocking lines on the floor. 

The ceremonial room, located in the western wing of the Bunker, was where the Men of Letters held large magical workings too complex or involving too many people for the main library. Sam had chosen the room as it was situated directly above the large ley-line that ran beneath the fortress and fed the bunker’s wards. Over the years living there, Sam had found it was a good place to work magic if they had time to prepare.

There was a small bowl of oil at the center of the circle next to a long stave and a box of matches. He made sure everything he needed was there then took his place just outside the circle and facing Rowena. They both wore loose cream clothing made of cotton. Rowena was in a thin strapped dress and he in only pants. Sam felt like he was wearing pajamas but Rowena had insisted they perform the spell as accurately as possible since he wouldn’t allow them to leave the fortified building until she was feeling more restored. That was also the reason he was directing the rite, instead of Rowena. Rowena had said that with her power depleted by Avina Davenport, she was not in any state to be doing ritual magic. So it was up to him to make it work. That was perfectly fine with him as he wasn’t going to risk her life in any way if they didn’t have to.

Sam could admit that maybe he was being a bit too extreme but it was better to be safe than have to relive what he’d gone through the day before. So he’d compromised. Sam had been planning to use the _haras peithia_ , an Etruscan Eagle Eye spell, to locate the witch Avina. When he’d brought his idea to Rowena, she’d graciously praised him but recommended an alternative, saying the _peithia_ would not be strong enough to pierce through Avina’s wards.

So there they were, barefoot and cold, dressed like they were gearing up for a hit of LSD at a hippie retreat. His skin raised with goosebumps at a draft that blew through the cavernous room and he wriggled his toes at the chill of the stone floor. Rowena didn’t look anywhere near as uncomfortable is Sam felt. Her hair was flowing over her shoulders, her skin looked as smooth as silk, and her eyes were shining like jewels. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, a rare sight to see, having cleansed her face and hands in blessed water before stepping into the circle. Sam had done the same, the skin of his palms still a little soft from the damp.

Rowena examined the circle he’d drawn again. It was a simple design of Borromean rings enclosed within one large ring carefully traced in white chalk. Four candles--white, blue, red, and green--were placed in the standard cardinal directions, waiting to be lit. 

She bent to smell the oil in the bowl and hummed in approval. “Are you ready?” she asked as she straightened up, stopping only to pick up the matches and hand them to him.

Sam took a deep breath. “Yes.”

She flashed a quick smile. “Remember, I am just your second during this. An anchor, a guide, a casting net. My power is your power today. This is your working, your circle... _your_ magic.”

 _His_ magic. Strange to think of using his abilities again. His first foray had turned out to be a bad acid trip literally to hell. The experience of that...the darkness of it and of him hooked on demon blood had left a scar that he was hesitant to reopen. Rowena had assured him that it would be different. That the frenzy and disorder the demon blood raised in him was long gone. She hypothesized that his clairvoyance may have been corrupted by Azazel when he was a baby but that it likely was already his before the demon had polluted him. He wanted so desperately to believe it was true, so he clung to her next words.

“Magic is what you choose. Take control of your power and shape it to your will. You have cleansed your heart and your body, now cleanse your mind that you might pierce through and see.”

At her final word, Sam struck a match. She would not speak again for the rest of the ritual unless she needed to pull him back from danger during the casting. Barring that circumstance, the rest of the rite was up to him. Rather than using an overly complicated spell to find Avina, they had chosen to enhance a simple one with his own Sight and use him to find her. Once there he would simply mark the witch so that they could find her no matter where she was. _‘Sometimes less is more, dear boy,’_ Rowena had said.

He took only a moment then stepped carefully into the circle and began to call the quarters, lighting each of the four candles as he went.

“ _I call upon the Earth for balance and stability._ ” He lit the green candle then shook the match out and dropped it to the ground.

“ _I call upon the Air for clarity of thought."_ The white candle was next.

“ _I call upon the Fire for will and courage. I call upon the Water for intuition and love._ ” Red and then blue.

He finished opening the circle and felt a pulse of power rush through him. It was stronger than he was expecting and he swayed for a second but did not fall. He focused on the feel of it to orient himself and found that it was cool like a soft breeze and reminded him of the smell of an evergreen forest at dawn. 

When he felt centered again, he looked up to find himself standing in front of Rowena, exactly where he meant to be. He locked eyes with hers and then they sat in unison, crossing their legs as they fell with the bowl and the stave between them. Sam set down the matchbox and picked up the bowl of white lily oil, dipping two fingertips into it. 

“ _Let there be no doubt as I am bolstered by the firm ground_ ,” he said and splashed a drop to the North.

“ _Let there be no confusion as the wind carries me on my path_.” A drop to the East.

“ _Let there be no fear as I have burned away the past_.” He threw a splash over his shoulder to the South.

“ _Let there be no obscuration as my eyes have been washed clean._ ” 

He threw the last drop to the West and set the bowl down in front of him. “ _Let this circle be a window peering into the ether_ ,” he intoned. “ _I have come with an open heart, clean hands, and a clear mind_.”

He reached forward and took one of Rowena’s hands, turning it so that the inner wrist was facing up. He swiped the oil across first one palm and then the other, then did the same to himself. When he finished, he picked up the willow stave and held it out between them. He and Rowena stacked their hands on the knotted, uneven wood until the entire length was almost completely enclosed within their flesh, fists pressed tight against each other.

“ _We seek that which was stolen and that which was lost_.” 

He switched his tenses to include Rowena as it was time to bring her into the invocation. They were planning to connect to the power Avina stole by using the power still left in Rowena to locate it. Technically, since she had not died, Rowena was still connected to it somewhat. It meant they could use her to find Avina but they had a limited amount of time to do it before Avina noticed that she did not have complete control of it. They were banking on the other witch being too busy resting on her laurels to realize.

With the change in his pronouns came a new rush of power, hot and heavy. Channeling Rowena’s power was like cupping lava. He had to be careful not to let it burn him. The fact that this was her power _after_ it was depleted was astounding. It reminded him that she was centuries old and had experienced far more than any other witch he’d probably ever met. 

“ _We seek she who has trespassed against us and she who has broken trust._ ” 

Their combined power began to fill him up. His chest constricted with the effort to hold it. It poised on the lip of him, ready to spill over the edge at any moment. The ceremonial room was being whipped with wind, the long tapestry wall hangings bearing the Aquarian Star were nearly being torn from their moorings. Despite the violent wind, however, the four candles he had lit burned steadily.

“ _Let she who is hidden be revealed_ ,” he yelled over the deafening noise of the wind. “ _Avina Davenport. Show thyself, show thyself, show thyself!_ ”

At the scream of the last sentence, the magic he had been holding onto poured out of him and crashed into the edges of his circle like an ocean wave on the shore. When the wave returned, it ripped his mind out of his body like an undertow. Rowena, the Bunker, his own body...it all fell away until he was flung out into nothingness. The only thing that kept him from completely losing himself was the feel of the willow stave squeezed tight in his fists and Rowena’s hands pressed to the sides of his.

He did not know how long his mind wandered in the darkness, flitting back and forth like a hummingbird. Time had no meaning there. It could’ve been minutes or hours and Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell. The spell was fully in play now. There was no turning back. His consciousness would search and search until he either found what he wanted or until Rowena snapped it back to his body. She had that singular power as his anchor and his second.

It did not come to that, thankfully. For as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he spotted a glimmer in the distance. He zeroed in, focusing every bit of his will on it. The glimmer grew bigger and brighter, speeding toward him more rapidly by the second. There was a heavy resistance the closer he got. The more he tried to push through, the more difficult it became until it felt like pressing into a brick wall. It was then that he got an idea. He stopped trying to force his way through and instead imagined that he was compressed. Squeezed down into a thin line. He un-spooled himself so completely until he could see the spaces between the so called brick wall, between the very atoms themselves. Then he surged forward and threaded his way through Avina’s defenses, keeping the tether locked on the willow stave.

When Sam emerged on the other side of Avina’s wall, he could see her. Pale and tall with dark hair and bright, gray eyes. He crept slowly along the ceiling until he was above her. She was seated at a dinner table eating dinner. Once he was sure she could not see him, he snaked his way down, still as thin as a thread of silk, and he lightly pressed a tendril of his and Rowena’s power to the base of her neck. There was enough of Rowena in it that the power Avina had stolen and cloaked herself with should conceal the homing mark for long enough for them to find her.

Avina hissed and slapped at the sting like she was swatting a mosquito. She even glanced around as if she were looking for it. Sam held very still. If she caught him then, the jig would be up. She might be able to rip him clean out of his body and imprison his consciousness. If she realized they were looking for her, Rowena might not be able to find her again to rescue him before his body died.

Avina stood and whirl in a circle. She waved her hand and a slash of blue light emanated out. It blew up against him where he still hung above her but he was so thin that he simply flapped in it. A fly hidden in the ceiling lamp was not so lucky. The blue light hit it and it fell dead to the wood floor. Avina bent down to examine it then banished it to nothingness. Seemingly satisfied that she had caught her culprit, she returned to her dinner.

Sam waited one more breath then slowly retraced his movements out of her hideaway, through her wards, and back into the void. Once he was there, he reformed his mind to its usual size and released the tight concentration he’d been holding. The moment he let go, his mind snapped back through the darkness and into his body.

Sam’s eyelids jumped up and reality reasserted himself. There was Rowena steady across from him, hands tight around the stave. There the embroidered hangings fell quiet against the brick walls as the otherworldly winds had quieted. The journey had been successful, the dowsing mark was set, and the circle could now be closed to complete the rite. Sam breathed a sigh of relief to be back in his body. He was careful not to speak, however, as he still hadn’t finished out the ritual. 

Instead, Sam moved to lay the stave down over the bowl of oil. Rowena’s hands released it and moved down to rest on her knees. Sam stood and turned to his left.

“ _My thanks to the Water for granting me its fluidity,"_ he chanted as he pressed his fingers to pinch out the blue candle. “ _My thanks to the Fire for granting me its initiative. My thanks to the Air for granting me its swiftness. My thanks to the Earth for granting me its permanence."_

He extinguished each candle as he went, circling around Rowena until he returned to the spot where he started. He reached down and poised his finger above the chalk line of the outer circle. 

“ _With this line broken, let this window be obscured and this circle closed to all who might trespass."_

He scraped his finger over the chalk, breaking the line, and completing the rite he had started. The swell of his and Rowena’s power in the room disentangled and settled. Sam could no longer feel Rowena’s overwhelming magic wrapping around his own. Instead, his calm breeze retreated back into his body, leaving him humming with his own power. With rituals like this, he would be feeling that hum for days. 

When Sam stood and turned around, he found Rowena had moved to stand right in front of him. She was beaming a great, big smile. Wider than he’d ever seen her sport. Her loose curls were a little fuzzy and tangled like she’d been static shocked. Her cheeks were full flushed with bright red and her eyes were shining like jewels.

“Fantastic,” she declared. She grabbed his face in both hands, pulling his face all the way down until he was curled over and she could kiss him on the forehead with a loud smack.

Sam blinked his eyes rapidly, mouth gaping a bit. He braced his hands on her narrow shoulders to keep from tipping over. She wouldn't let go of his face so he had to hold the posture to keep her from falling too.

“Absolutely fantastic,” she repeated. This time she let out a laugh as well.

Sam could feel his cheeks start to heat up. “Thank you?” he ventured somewhat tentatively. He didn’t want to let on how much he valued her praise.

Rowena pinched his cheek, then finally freed his face. “Take pride in your casting,” she said and turned sideways to point to the center of the broken circle.

“The spell worked like a charm...if you’ll forgive the pun.”

Sam followed her pointing fingers to the stave and bowl. The willow stave was pulsing a light green and violet. It would now act as a dowsing rod connected to the brand he’d left on Avina’s neck. No matter where she was in this dimension or any other, as long as either he or Rowena were holding that stave, they’d be able to find her. And Avina would be none the wiser until they attacked.

Rowena turned back to him and grabbed onto his arms. “That was truly delightful spell-casting, Samuel. I really am proud.”

Sam’s chest suddenly grew so tight and his eyes filled up so fast that he almost let out a gasp. Before he could second guess himself, he threw his arms around Rowena and pulled her into him. He felt her hands slide over his shoulders and her entire front pressed into his.

They didn’t speak, just stood there swaying. They were so connected in that moment that the remnants of their magic started to entwine once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I slipped in a little nugget of Bi!Sam just cuz I can and y'all can't stop me.


End file.
